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After six decades together, United States, our partnership must conclude. While I still hold affection for you, the romantic connection has faded and the time has come to go our separate ways. I'm leaving by choice, though it brings sadness, because you possess countless wonderful qualities.

Scenic Wonders and Innovative Energy

From your breathtaking national parks, towering redwood forests and unique wildlife to the magical illumination of lightning bugs amid cornfields on summer evenings and the vibrant autumn foliage, your natural splendor is extraordinary. Your ability to spark creativity appears limitless, as evidenced through the inspiring individuals I've met throughout your territory. Many of my most cherished memories center on tastes that permanently connect me to you – aromatic cinnamon, pumpkin pie, grape jelly. But, America, you've become increasingly difficult to understand.

Family Legacy and Shifting Identity

If I were composing a separation letter to the United States, that's how it would begin. I've been what's termed an "accidental American" from delivery due to my father and centuries of ancestors before him, commencing in the seventeenth century and featuring revolutionary and civil war soldiers, shared genetic material with a former president and generations of pioneers who traversed the country, from Massachusetts and New Jersey to Ohio, Pennsylvania, Illinois and Kansas.

I feel tremendous pride regarding my ancestral background and their role in the national story. My father experienced childhood during the Great Depression; his ancestor fought with the military overseas in the global conflict; his single-parent ancestor operated a farm with nine children; his relative helped rebuild San Francisco after the 1906 earthquake; and his grandfather campaigned as a state senator.

Yet despite this quintessentially American heritage, I find myself no longer feeling connected with the country. This is particularly true considering the confusing and alarming governmental climate that makes me doubt what American identity represents. Experts have termed this "citizen insecurity" – and I believe I experience it. Currently I wish to establish separation.

Practical Considerations and Financial Burden

I merely lived in the United States a brief period and haven't returned in nearly a decade. I've maintained Australian nationality for most of my life and have no plans to reside, employment or education in the US again. Furthermore, I'm certain I won't require military rescue – so there's no practical necessity to maintain U.S. citizenship.

Additionally, the requirement I face as a U.S. citizen to submit annual tax returns, although not residing or employed there nor qualifying for benefits, proves burdensome and anxiety-inducing. America stands with only two nations worldwide – including Eritrea – that impose taxation based on citizenship rather than residence. And financial compliance is mandatory – it's documented within travel documents.

Certainly, a tax agreement exists connecting both nations, designed to prevent duplicate payments, yet filing costs vary between A$1,200 and A$3,500 annually for straightforward declarations, and the process proves highly challenging and complex to complete each January, as the American fiscal cycle begins.

Regulatory Issues and Ultimate Choice

Authorities have indicated that ultimately American officials will mandate conformity and administer substantial fines on delinquent individuals. This enforcement doesn't target high-profile individuals but every U.S. citizen abroad must fulfill obligations.

While taxation isn't the primary reason for my renunciation, the annual expense and stress associated with documentation becomes troubling and fundamental economics indicates it constitutes inefficient resource allocation. However, ignoring American fiscal duties could result in travel involves additional apprehension regarding possible border rejection for non-compliance. Alternatively, I could postpone resolution until my estate handles it posthumously. Neither alternative seems acceptable.

Possessing American travel documentation constitutes an opportunity many newcomers desperately seek to acquire. But it's a privilege that creates discomfort personally, thus I'm implementing changes, although requiring significant payment to finalize the procedure.

The threatening formal photograph featuring the former president, scowling toward visitors at the U.S. consulate in Sydney – where I recited the renunciation oath – provided the final motivation. I understand I'm selecting the correct path for my circumstances and during the official questioning regarding external pressure, I honestly respond negatively.

Two weeks afterward I obtained my official relinquishment document and my voided travel papers to keep as souvenirs. My name will reportedly appear within government records. I simply hope that subsequent travel authorization gets granted during potential return trips.